"'And as that would not do, I tried at least to compensate him in other ways. You know that all my life I have toiled and moiled, but never have I worked so hard as in these three years. And when I felt myself growing faint and my knees threatened to give way under me, the thought spurred me on again: "Show that at least you are of _some_ good to him; do not ever let him become conscious of how little he possesses in you.... But of what avail is it all! My efforts are not the least good. Everything goes topsy-turvy all the same, as soon as ever I turn my back. I am constantly in terror lest one day my management should no longer suffice him."' "Thus the poor creature lamented, and I felt positively frightened at so much misery. "'Listen, I have a favour to ask of you,' she begged at last, and clutched my hands; 'do try and sound him as to whether he is--is satisfied with me, and then come and tell me.' "I drew her to me; I lavished loving epithets upon her, and endeavoured to soothe away her fear and trouble. Eagerly she drank in every one of my words; her feverishly glowing eyes hung spellbound upon my lips, and from time to time a feeble sigh escaped her. "'Oh, if I had always had you near me!' she cried, stroking my hands. But then a fresh idea seemed to make her despondent again. I urged her, but she would not put it into words, until at length it came out with stuttering and stammering. "'You will do everything a thousand times better than I; you will show him what he _might_ have had, and what he _has_. Through you he will finally realise what a miserable creature I am.' "I was alarmed; then I felt plainly: my dream of possessing a home was already dreamed out. How could I remain in this place, when my own sister was consuming herself with jealous anxiety on my account? "She felt herself that she had pained me; stretching up her thin arms to my neck, she said: 'You must not misunderstand me, Olga. What I feel is not jealousy; I am so little jealous, that I have no more ardent wish than that you two should become united after my death, and----' "'After your death!' I cried, in horror. 'Martha, you are sinning against yourself!' "She smiled in mournful resignation. "'I know that better than you.' she said. 'My vital strength has been broken for a long time. The long waiting in those days already undid me. Now, of course, I thought that with this birth all would be nicely at an end, and that is why I longed so for you, because I wanted first to arrange everything clearly between you two. But, however things may turn out, it won't be long before I have to give in and die, and before then I want to feel sure that I am leaving him and the child in good keeping.'